


It Was a Matter of Time

by peanutlee33



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aggression, Dark, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:44:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutlee33/pseuds/peanutlee33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is My Personal Take - on the Season 7 premiere. No one has met 'Lucille' just yet.</p>
<p>The Saviors have successfully captured most of Rick's group... in spite Rick's efforts to rush Maggie to the Hilltop for needed critical care. Carol has left Alexandria to escape any more killing, unbeknownst that Morgan is not far behind her - in attempt to return them both to Alexandria... They inevitably run into some wayward Saviors - and learn that the group was taken hostage. Carol immediately worries about Daryl, as the Saviors rough-handedly take them to see Negan. Soon Carol comes face to face with the rumored terrorist psychopath. And she is unaware... of his sadomasochistic gameplay... in taking women... as wives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Was a Matter of Time

**Author's Note:**

> This work loosely tags the Season 6 finale - and regards the upcoming Season 7 - Premises . . . 
> 
> My version of the situation at Negan's underground compound. No one has met 'Lucille' yet. Your thoughts and feedback are greatly appreciated... even if not entirely positive. (and yes, I do welcome polite critique or criticism of my work) :)
> 
> If you got through my first chapter okay, then I thank you kindly. The next chapter will be somewhat longer... and seems to be taking forever to finish. But I guess that is expected with writing perfection. Negan is a new series character and I am not a comics follower. So he's definitely been a challenge, but indeed a welcomed one.  
> Composing the exact dialogue and tone of situations, and the outlying circumstances have been pretty awesome. But I feel I got through it okay. Several friends have already reviewed this opening chapter, for character and flow accuracy. And each gave me the thumbs up, so that felt very encouraging.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story as well. Thanks for reading.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This piece is entirely a work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended. I do not own The Walking Dead, nor any of its characters and settings.

C H A P T E R  * 1

A gruff, dirty, heavily-armed man in combat clothing led Carol down a dark, dank, tunnel toward a dimly lit area. Her hands were bound in front of her, but she was otherwise unharmed.

Morgan followed not far behind: a tad roughed up, his hands bound behind his back—occasionally getting a shove from the other armed guard who kept the barrel of his rifle pointed at back of Morgan’s head.

But no hint of worry crossed the warrior queen’s lovely but pale face as they walked. Only mere curiosity of where they were leading her and Morgan … though she knew damned well, they were at one of Negan’s compounds.

She was as familiar with man’s name as she cared to be. The meetings Rick had assessed back at the Safe-Zone had opened crystal clear whom the group would eventually encounter, particularly after the Saviors' apparent ravage of the Hilltop community.

She had known psychopathic killers before. The Governor to be exact…. blowing up their former prison home.... Showing up with a new army and a loaded tank.... his dirty message to them of taking no survivors.

But these notorious Saviors were a whole other brand of psychotic.  They were brutal, murderous thieves who posed as assholes who dared to compete with the civil humans, in this shitty world.  Pure ruthless criminal renegades who took whatever they wanted, when they wanted.... and killed or tortured whomever stood in their way.

Truthfully at first, she hadn't given any of them much passing thought. Her family was as fierce and brutal as any of those two-bit thugs. Hell, Daryl had blasted a biker gang of them to oblivion after they’d tried taking him, Sasha and Abraham hostage, a week earlier.

 And she'd successfully faced off the Wolves—with Morgan’s help—later slaughtering their supposed leader, in spite mister “all of life is precious” bullshit efforts to hold the grotesque savage hostage. And she’d faced a crew of Negan’s people firsthand, during her hostage hold with Maggie.

Paula—the pseudo Negan serial-killer. Memory of that confrontation almost made Carol wince.  But Paula had forced her to do the inevitable.... in spite pleading with the woman to just turn around and leave… the stupid, murderous bitch.  

Torching that compound was no option... just like she’d done with Terminus. No one fucked with her family. NO ONE. And  _no one_.... rendered her hostage.  She'd dealt enough with that bullshit, under Ed's cruelty all those years. She was no one's victim anymore.

Destroying Negan's compound had almost ruined her mentally, however… These Saviors… they all could go to hell... and she'd send each of them personally.... single-handedly, if allotted the opportunity.

Truthfully there was no need for anymore brutality, in spite enemy assholes having no conscience, in this changed world. However, she was simply tired of it all. Fuck tired of all the inexcusable brutality.

And the Safe-Zone…. What was  _supposed_  to be their new haven. So much for that wishful thinking. To a degree that life-change had somewhat cautioned her—particularly after losing the prison.  She long realized that there was no such thing as a “safe-zone” anymore… same as her family.

Thank god, she’d long mastered survival and taking down the enemy. And that her family were all fierce warrior survivors, succeeding the nastiest enemy to date. But since that Wolf invasion, and the Saviors threat at the Hilltop, any mere conscience of peaceful Alexandria had long become moot.

Daryl had caught up with her after that compound rescue, and asked her if she was 'okay'.  She'd responded a truthful 'No', as he’d tightly embraced her. And that… was the god’s honest truth. No she wasn’t ‘all right’.  Hell—she hadn't been, in some time. She'd grown tired and weary of the overall human slaughter.

The Governor. Terminus. Gareth. The Saviors. All of it. She wanted peace. For everyone to just fucking get along again. Why it was so damned difficult for others to accept civility with one another, in the continued survival of this shitty world, remained a damned mystery to her. 

Everywhere had revealed itself absolute bullshit. After three years, survival had become a brutal existence. The good ones, always warding off the psychopaths.

 -    -     -     -

Continuing down the elongated corridor, Carol worried about Morgan trailing behind her. He was almost limping from getting kicked around outside—and nearly shot point-range. But they’d spared him only on the account that any killing was Negan’s call. 

During that outside struggle, four henchmen made vile comments or suggestions about her, which she'd freely disregarded. But their talk had madly provoked Morgan into heated action. 

She successfully took down one of them, and then fought the other—just as she’d done with Morgan. But the coot got the better grab-hold on her, at the last moment, and bound her hands.

Morgan had successfully ended one of them, with the katana they'd taken from Michonne.  At least that was two assholes they no longer had to concern with.  He’d suffered some minor bruising and a cut lip during the altercation, but thankfully no bones seemed broken or displaced.

The surviving guard was generously enjoying shoving Morgan down the corridor with the barrel of his rifle.  Even for a tough, former militant… hard steel against the back of the head, was no welcomed touch.

 They now reached the end of the corridor, and she took a generous look around. The area was well lit with torches, which allowed her to clearly identify the group of frightened Alexandrian's, to her right.

A dimmed light directly across from her, flooded a distant cavity leading to somewhere else, in this deep cavern. 

She was obviously inside a holding area for hostages or prisoners. She’d seen such similar images on old History and Discovery channel wartime documentaries.

Glancing hard right, she now spotted most of her own family.  In leaguered breath, she scoped them out carefully, but her eyes didn't spot Daryl -- which she considered a sage relief.

The trained hunter and tracker easily could disappear like the wind, if he wanted to. Her man was fierce and knew how to fight. And... get downright nasty if push and shove called for it.

A sudden movement to her hard-right, now revealed a wrist-bound Rick, who slowly approached a nearby pit lean. They subtly locked eyes a moment, avoiding any attention draw from the guards.  Rick merely nodded slight acknowledgment of her presence, then leaned up against the dirt wall.

He looked a tad sallow, but appeared physically sound. Shadowed behind him were Carl, Michonne, and Eugene.

She watched as Rick subtly averted his eyes in vengeful glare, at the armed guard nearby. The ruck may have noticed Rick's heated glare, but did not react.  All of the guards stood at militant attention, like awaiting formal orders from the absent high commander.

If she didn’t know any better—it was like they were all literal war prisoners, being held captive in a déjà vu holocaust: piteously awaiting their individual death sentences. 

She now felt a steady uneasiness, in spite herself. She'd been purposely led to this arena center... like a prized mock-auction trophy, awaiting the highest bidder.

Whatever the hell was going on here… or about to happen, she absolutely refused to react, though her stomach was starting to churn. The Paula face-off seemed miniscule now.

She quickly glanced again at Rick and furrowed her eyes.  _What the hell is this place?_   Rick's expression response was almost blank.  _I don't know what to tell you, Carol. Sorry you got brought into this._   

She'd heard the stories from Daryl and Michonne, about his prior dealings with kidnappers and scumbags, while they were all out on the road. He literally bit a man’s throat out, for attempting to violate Michonne and Carl.

Perhaps this immediate situation would mirror that event—if anticipated events drove desperate enough.

She knew that Rick was long over bullshit, the same as Michonne, Daryl, and herself. But the mere thought of witnessing him repeat that throat-biting wasn't overtly appealing.  In fact, it nearly made her cringe just now.

However, if push inevitably came to shove, she no doubt would hold down the sonofabitch, while Rick repeated the savagery. 

An armed man now stepped forward and untied her wrists while eyeing her ruefully. She paid him no mind but kept her eyes averted at Rick.

The thug stepped away, and she glanced again, over at the Alexandrians…. almost feeling sorry for them. A few were whimpering, attempting desperately to keep their noise at bay.

Something raw was up, but she couldn't quite place her consciousness on it just yet.

Then the surrounding atmosphere went nauseously still... like a death chill during a creepy horror scene… and caused her arm hairs to stand on-end.

Out from the distant cavity across from her, now appeared a figure, moving slowly, the shadows giving it a behemoth-like façade. It now entered the light, to reveal a very tall man with an enormous build.

He shuffled along calmly, like a sadistic mystery killer from a bestselling suspense novel. And she couldn't help herself… in spite their captivity.

The man was rather striking in appearance... oddly handsome, with medium skin tone and features, and sported a rather catching five-o'clock below his attractive face.  His dark slicked hair was grayed in a few spots, but he clearly was not much older than forty.

He certainly carried himself well enough... as with most men of such enormous stature. His dark penetrating eyes, boldly declared that he didn’t care rhyme, reason or shit why anyone was there, except for his own men.

Moving with the stride of a mafia boss, he barely glanced about his surroundings… as though the cavern had long become just an empty chasm of everyday work for him.

He paused but a mere second, and then moved again.

Finally entering the arena center, he was close enough for Carol to notice that he was carrying something at his side... an object that looked vaguely familiar to her.

After a moment, the man raised his arm to let the object rest upon his shoulder. 

It was a baseball bat.... and it twinkled... like glitter on a tree branch… which she found rather odd.

As he moved closer, she suddenly realized to her horror, that the twinkling, was barbed wire wrapped around the bat, like a grinning wicked cactus. She now felt her insides almost convulse.

This man wasn’t merely psychotic… He was a goddamned serial-killer---if ever this changed world presented such a beast. Literally a Darth Vader killing machine.  They were all screwed.

No wonder the hapless Alexandrians were panicked… desperate to escape, for their very lives.  No person in a half-conscious mind, carried around such a grotesque weapon.

From the Hilltop stories to this noxious moment, it was dead clear. This Darth Vader took whatever he wanted...  _when_ he wanted: No argument or fight.  He effortlessly bullied, maimed… or literally shredded anyone who stood in his way.

The man stopped within feet of her and then executed a surprisingly lustful up-down of her frame. She fiercely constrained herself from vomiting in repulsion. No way was she giving him that satisfaction.

He momentarily closed his eyes while scratching his scruff, to generously capture her presence. Not often did he confront a gray-haired woman so strikingly beautiful. Indeed she was a sight for sore eyes.

He opened his eyes and barely sustained an audible chuckle while stopping mere feet before her, his mouth now breaking into a lustful grin… but only for a moment. 

The grin dissolved to a closed mouth… and concluded the entire display of the man's creepy identity.  

The bat.

The Hilltop.

The enormous, threatening frame.

Carol realized she was face-to-face

… with the man himself.

 


	2. It was a Matter of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol is inevitably, unwittingly confronted by the notorious madman himself, and quickly realizes that the situation will require every ounce of strength she has, for standing ground against the lunatic and reputed sexual sadist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time around, the release of this chapter got a bit ‘muddied’ with grammar issues, due I was dealing with other issues while trying to finalize the edits, before submitting for publish. And needless to add, got removed for troubled or confusing content. This time around, I think I nailed it. So, I am grateful for your read and feedback or comments.  
> Carol is truly put to tremendous challenge here ... going wits to battle-end wits with this notorious, violent, and very sexual madman. Yes, she is the apocalyptic warrior queen... successfully waded off and even destroyed most anyone or anything that has crossed her path. But Negan becomes her ultimate, almost final challenge of the mix, being unlike the prior villains, the man is highly intelligent, a real boss, and quite capable of destroying anyone or anything he encounters (even without 'Lucille'). And only a few of the women he's taken as wives, have been mentally or otherwise strong enough to stand their ground with him, and also rule beside him unscathed.
> 
> Carol is truly put to tremendous challenge here ... going wits to battle-end wits with this notorious, violent, and very sexual madman. Yes, she is the apocalyptic warrior queen... successfully waded off and even destroyed most anyone or anything that has crossed her path. But Negan becomes her ultimate, almost final challenge of the mix, being unlike the prior villains, the man is highly intelligent, a real boss, and quite capable of destroying anyone or anything he encounters (even without 'Lucille'). And only a few of the women he's taken as wives, have been mentally or otherwise strong enough to stand their ground with him, and also rule beside him unscathed.

\--------------------- CHAPTER 2 -------------------------

Negan lustfully grazed Carol’s frame again, allowing his dark penetrating eyes to capture her presence. He’d absorbed enough reports from his henchmen about this female assassin to literally stab his curiosity. He needed to meet the woman who destroyed his compound, and the group of Saviors she’d taken down almost singlehandedly. 

Turning to his nearest henchman, he now handed over the bat and then returned his attention to Carol.  His tongue swept across his teeth as though digesting every ounce of her, and she felt her stomach start to churn.  He then tilted his head slightly as if 'studying' her a moment, and she fought back the bile threatening its way up her throat.  Whatever was going on with this psycho, she was dead certain he was going to touch her at any moment, and she silently prayed that wouldn’t happen. Defending herself was the last maneuver she honestly wanted against this creep.

She'd fought Morgan pretty well, back at home-base, but that altercation was fairly mild and familial.  This was enemy territory and she was captive, literal prisoner. Subjectively at the will of this famed psycho's bat. That... and the ugly possibility of being taken away into his harem of wives, which was one noted place she was not going to end up.  Quickly though, she shoved aside such ugly thoughts and focused her hidden energy on her wits. It was about the only defense mechanism she realistically had against this creep.

Negan didn’t touch her, but he did relish the sweet movement now engaging within his groin.  Which more than satisfied him, considering he didn’t often encounter older, grayed women who were actually attractive.  Hell, Carol’s decadent baby blues alone, were almost hypnotizing to him.  Surprisingly, he didn’t need didn’t to fantasize over what fucking her was going to be like.  A pretty face with a body to match … no argument she'd make some damned fine pussy.

Quite easily right now, he could exploit his manly libido with her, realizing full well it would doubly shake things up here.  Clear the air that he was the boss.  The keeper of women, the master.  But he preferred to absorb his prey first, before striking.  Hell, it was only fitting... and appropriate.   _Damn this woman is pretty, in spite that grayed hair.  Not a single fucking wrinkle anywhere!  God... those nice lips... which I can't wait to taste… And no shit—she has some nice curves under that clothing… Fuck yea, I’ll be exploring those later._

Yes indeed, Carol was going to be his new wife.  Her warrior fierceness would equal quite the lioness in his bedroom.  And fuck knows, that was the greatest orgasm he or anyone could ever look forward to.  She would come to appreciate the utter privilege of ruling at his side, as right-hand and esteemed lover. He eagerly looked forward to showing her what a real man was, what a real man tasted like, what how a real man fucked.

He now stepped into her space and ‘breathed’ her in.  Carol almost sucked in her breath at this invasion, but remained no-les stoic.  It was best not to give off any vibes of weakness with him.  The less upper-hand he presumed over her, she knew, the better.  However, it was by far, god damned difficult.  Negan smelled of rich leather, some brand of cologne or aftershave, and solid heat pheromones. Hell, if he achieved an erection, it would be a god damned first for her, though the idea truthfully the both nauseated, and amused her, in a bizarre kind of way.

She’d long assumed men were not aroused by her, much less found her physically appealing. She was older and grayed although she certainly considered herself at least somewhat decent looking.  But she by far was no young hottie like Maggie or Sasha. This madman however, obviously fawned over any piece of ass that crossed his doorstep.  His nauseating gaze was truthfully humiliating, and it revolted her.  She hated being thought of as a piece of fucking meat.

Any moment now, she honestly expected the man to grab her and press his groin against her in deliberate dominance. She wouldn’t put it past the creep.  Quickly she closed that off and kept her eyes safely averted from his lustful gaze to a distant object----and silently prayed that he’d now gotten his “fix” and would just walk away.  But that didn’t happen.

Without warning, Negan suddenly reached out and took both her hands into his enormous ones, nearly making her jump. Then he caressed her thumbs affectionately, which almost made her wince in disgust.  Instinctively she now found herself reluctantly looking up at him, and was met with an unwelcoming seductive grin.  His tongue swept across his bottom lip again, knowing he was making her damned uncomfortable, and he’d half considered actually kissing her right then, but decided such maneuver could wait.  No sense in rushing things. He barely knew her.

He now boldly slid his hands up her forearms to her shoulders, in seductive pause, and then massaged gently, as if embracing her delicate bone structure. Carol almost winced from his touch, and begged her soul that he didn’t sense it.  He now slid his hands back down her forearms and stopped at her waistline, to grace the feel of its curve against his fingertips. Carol breathed steadily, aching badly to throw him off her

_God damn, this woman fine.  Damned fuckin’ fine.  Wow, I can’t wait to touch her bare skin._ His eyes now danced about hers and then graced downward at her mouth, and she caught her breath, fighting back panic.  It was obvious what he was calculating as his next move. He was going to pull her to him and kiss her, probably even devour her in front of this whole assembly, just for amusement's sake.  _Holy Christ_  … She felt her insides start to scream. 

But he only lingered a moment, and then slowly slid his hands back into hers again. He grinned, satisfied, and then breathed deep, and now lowered his forehead—dangerously too close to hers.  He wasn’t done quite yet.  Carol swallowed hard…  _oh my god… he IS going to kiss me!_ At this moment, she knew her old self would have weakened and then buckled under this taunting pressure. But thankfully that woman was long gone.  Her newer self was a badass warrior queen who was not giving this creep the benefit.

Bravely now, Carol closed her eyes and fought back brimming nausea as his lingered breath brushed her face.  She stiffened, awaiting his contact: that evil tongue that was about to invade her mouth---and probe her, taste her, devour her---while he pressed his erection against her in repugnant satisfaction.  But only mere seconds went by, which honestly seemed like daunting minutes to her.  And… he didn’t move a beat.  God dammed this asshole for fucking with her like this!  Even Ed never taunted her this way.

Now she cautiously opened her eyes and took a moment to breathe, silently thanking the air that Negan didn’t make his move.  However, he instead executed another maneuver that was equally revolting, and would normally have earned him a nasty backhand from her, if they were in a different place. Her was lifted to his lips, and he pressed gently, not once, but twice.  Each press, almost making her vomit with disgust.  And that almost did it.  The idea of him publicly devouring her mouth, just for show, was borderline, but physically touching any part of her was non-negotiable.

Carol now felt rage start to build, and knew that if he didn’t stop this act soon, he was  _going_ to feel the giant sting of her fierce backhand---and damn the consequences.  God, it angered her to feel so completely vulnerable at a time like this.  She realized he could just as soon turn her around and publicly grope her, if he’d so elected, just to be an animal. 

But Negan played nice, which honestly was not his method, under prisoner captivity.  He preferred charm and seduction for winning women over, and usually they did not resist him.  His very last resort was manhandling, which he avoided at all costs.  Even the sassiest or boldest of woman could be won over, under the right tactic. And no way was he spoiling his overall game plan here with Carol.  She had balls as big and as fierce as his, which shouldered even the slightest respect with him. And he needed that equality on his league… and in his bed.

For a quick moment, Carol shifted her thoughts to Daryl, reflecting how good his embrace felt, when they’d reunited back at Terminus, months ago.  Those large, warm arms of his wrapped so lovingly around her… holding her so tight… never wanting to part ways…

Somewhere, in the dankness of this cavern, an unseen figure silently seethed at this whole spectacle taking place between Negan with Carol, and pained to be at her side.  Waiting for just the right moment to step forward and come to her defense and rescue.

Negan now stepped back from her personal space, but kept her hand at his mouth as he now spoke. “So…” He started, in a deep authoritative baritone. “You’re  .  Carol.” His head tilted slightly, his eyebrows raised in charmed amusement as his tongue brushed his bottom lip again.  There was no response.  He continued effortlessly. “Yes indeed … I’ve heard about you.” He continued, grinning. “How did my men put it? .... oh yes… ‘the gray-haired bitch who took out my whole camp.’”  He eyeballed her intently, watching for any reaction from her. “Yes indeed,” He continued while eye-fucking her. “And… the woman who wiped out the Wolf clan...” His jaw moved about ponderously as his teeth occasionally rested on his bottom lip.” I am very impressed.”

He gave her the once up-down again and then sighed and continued his foreplay game-play. “Well, Carol … I’m Negan…. Just in case you didn’t know.” He grinned. “And I am.   Very.   Pleased.   To.   Meet.   Y _ou_.” Eye-fucking her with raised brows.  Carol breathed steadily, watching his lustful gaze now drop to her mouth again.  He lowered her hand back to her side but did not release it.  Slowly he now lowered his forehead to hers again, and then took hold of her other hand and closed his eyes.  _G O D_  —  was this ever going to end.

Irritably, Carol closed her eyes once again and found herself  _wanting_ him to fucking kiss her already, get it over with.  Let things move along, for crissakes.  Hell, for half a crazy moment, she considered just grabbing the back of his head, or throwing her arms around him, to just get it over with.  But once again, Negan didn’t make his move.  Then suddenly, she felt a large masculine finger sensuously brush across her lips, and she almost jumped again.  _By God this isn't ending.  My whole family… watching this spectacle.  Oh---I’m going to get this sonofabitch._

“Carol, Carol….” The madman now cooed into her face. Carol reluctantly opened her eyes and looked up at him, realizing that their lips were barely inches apart, as the tension screamed.  Everything inside her, now fiercely holding back from desperately spiting into his face.  “You have nothing to fear from me.” He continued, ever-so coyly. “Believe it or not, I am going to respect your presence.”

_Really? … you sadist sonofabitch. Laugh now, but you will get yours, soon enough._

Negan now raised his head and stepped back from Carol, then released her hands, and continued his taunt. “Hell, as far as I’m concerned … you’ve earned it!”, almost mockingly, as he now slowly walked around her… like a lion studying its prey. 

_I've earned it, have I?  Is this the bullshit you tell all the women you take captive?  Why not put your stupid bat down, and face me like a man?_ Carol now found herself fighting back the same panic she'd felt, back at the compound where she and Maggie were held hostage.   _Daryl_ … her inner thoughts juggled rapidly.   _I’m so sorry about all this. I’m so glad you’re not here to witness this spectacle….wherever you are._

Negan stopped every few steps, and rubbed his scruff. “Damn, lady…  you are one fucking  _hot piece_.” Also, generously checking out her ass... so perfectly full and shaped.  He now fantasized her bare legs wrapped lusciously around him, as he drove himself deep inside her, fully enjoying the pleasure of her heat and wetness as she cried for mercy and begged for more.  That intense thought now amply stirring his erection, which he almost didn’t mind.  He was smart enough to keep his member down his pant leg, for such moments like this.  Another time, he’d simply depart off to his chamber or escape to the nearest bathroom and just finish himself off.  Thankfully he wasn’t quite that close, as he had no intention of leaving this peak moment.  Less, fare the idea of standing or walking around with spent fluid down his leg

Casually, he now locked a thumb onto his front pocket, allowing his fingers to gently rest over his erection, and then walked another few paces, while his free hand continued rubbing at his scruff.  He then glanced around at his bevy of prisoners, and suddenly was happily curious as to which of these male prisoners was her man.  There was no doubt in his intelligent brain, she had one.  The beautiful ones always did.

“I wonder, Carol…” He said coyly, stopping a moment. “Which of these sad fucks is your man?” Gesturing to her right. Carol breathed steadily but remained silent. “Care to point him out?”, he said half sarcastically.  Silence.  He chuckled slightly. “Hmmm… guess not.  Well, no matter. He’s tied up, so he’s no real bother to me.”  He paced a few more steps. “I’ll figure it out soon enough. And then…”, he stopped almost mockingly, like a teacher pretending to chastise a good student. “He and I … will have a _talk_.”

Carol swallowed hard… and now prayed that Daryl  _wasn’t_ hiding in the darkness—witnessing all of this.  Even injured, the hunter’s temper was raw and loaded; particularly over her.  No one messed with his lady, and such retaliation was the last thing she needed right now.  Negan touched his beard again and then ran a hand through his hair.  He knew for sure she wasn’t with Rick.  The bearded prick still wore his wedding band and Carol’s finger was bare. But any fool could see that the ringleader prick was with that dread-locked bitch.

He now gestured across to where Abraham, Sasha, and Rosita were tied up. “Perhaps… it’s  _that_ guy.” Abraham almost stiffened at the mention of his name, but then turned pale and looked away embarrassed. Negan pondered that reaction amusingly. The big fuck certainly was muscle enough for Carol.  She seemed like the muscle-loving type.  But obviously, there was no connection there.  Well, he knew she wasn’t with mullet-man, whimpering over in the corner.  That lame fuck was too weak to even leave a piss track back to his homestead. And she certainly wasn’t with Asian guy.  The dude was way too young for her, and he was obviously with the short-haired brunette who was bare on her last fucking leg—like she’d stupidly eaten some walker meat or crazy shit like that.

Well, he pondered, she could just as well be with that black fucker she came in with.  But somehow still, that pairing just didn’t really click with him either. Sonofabitch, he was off his fucking game tonight.  He now secretly admired their tenacity and loyalty toward Carol, in keeping silent. She was obviously special to them.  A respected and beloved leader. Hell, they were right in camouflaging her identity.

Well, she obviously wasn’t with Rick’s boy, and she certainly wasn’t with the small curly-locks dude. That little fuck wasn’t near man enough for her, and he wore a wedding band.  No doubt, his lady would never see him alive again, pending he was smart and cooperative to avoid ‘Lucille’.  Negan was now becoming irritated with his own game lapse and mumbled a curse as his hands briefly went to his hips. Usually he was more intuitive than this. He honestly hated that Carol was one tough cookie to crack, and that would nag at his skin like a scabbing sore.  He wasn’t liking that, one fucking bit.  

His eliminations were about done, but something else was jerking at his mind.  He was missing something, and for a moment, couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  Glancing about the prisoners again, then at her, it suddenly dawned on him that one of the men was missing from his view.  And knew precisely who it was.  That wounded redneck fuck Dwight had brought in days earlier, after taking the motorcycle, crossbow, and jacket.

It somehow made perfect fucking sense.  Carol was with that redneck prick.  And quite truthfully, the fact almost sickened him as much as wanting to laugh his fucking ass off right now, enough to piss his own pants.  He took a moment and wiped his hand through his hair.  God---it was just unfucking believable.  Carol was with longhair.  Somehow, he swallowed that fact, and about now, he wanted to seriously chastise the woman for being associated with the longhair.  

How in the fucking holy hell did that hookup ever happen? What in fuck’s reasoning did she see such a loser? Why in the fuck she was wasting her precious time with a wounded worthless piece of crap.  Negan was now, almost piteously beside himself, and shook his head in utter disgust. He honestly had held Carol far above Longhair's pathetic low-class, not to mention his I.Q.  The dude probably couldn’t add two-plus-two or even count backwards from ten.  And he was barely standing, from that nasty gunshot wound…  _way to go, Dwight._

Hell, the mere thought of her fucking that loser almost disgusted him to the hilt, but strangely also delighted him.  Longhair was his sad competition, even wounded.  But Negan knew that Longhair was a born fighter, his type usually were.  He was well-built and toned, and no doubt, handled four against one easily.  _Daryl_ … that was his fucking name. The sad, bleeding prick was called Daryl.  Daryl with Carol.  Wow, they fuckin’ rhymed!  Negan chuckled now, to himself. 

He turned his attention back toward Carol again, and she now realized it was time to speak up and get coy back, with this lunatic before he finished his disgusting “observation” of her, and really took some action.  Choosing her thoughts smartly, she left no room for chance, and finally spoke up, in reply to his “ _hot”_ compliment. “So, I’m hot.... as in warm to the touch?” She said flatly, with a hint of guarded sarcasm.

Negan closed his eyes and chuckled in amusement at her brassiness. Damn, she was brilliant. Brilliant and beautiful. Admittedly, he expected such a strong woman to be coy and direct.  Most of the women he’d taken captive, generally cowered or buckled by now.  Suddenly he was seriously impulsed to grab her hands and really place them down at his groin.  Show her what affect she had on him.  Extend the bold hint of what she was later going to enjoy with him privately.

But he resisted and merely shuffled his feet.  Women like Carol came along once in a lifetime, and he was thrilling on her boldness.  “I like you.” He said grinning, and then glanced around at his armed men with appraising eyes. “I like this gray-haired one. Nice work bringing her in, guys.”  He stepped back into her space. “You’re sharp, beautiful.... and sassy.” Tilting his head with a raised brow, fingering his beard. “I prefer that in my women.” deliberately emphasizing the ‘my’, which of course, hit Carol like a snap at the head.

His eyes grazed her face and then her lips again. “No doubt.” Eye-fucking her again. ” You’ll make me a perfect new wife.” With absolute non-reservation, assuming she’d well take the hint.  Carol was about to respond, when that last part hit her.  _What the hell? He thinks he’s going to take me as a wife?  Over my dead body!_

Negan now boldly fingered one of her tendrils, as his free hand lightly grazed her cheek sensuously, ending deliberately at her mouth.  She eyeballed him fiercely, and for a moment, thought that he was going to repeat his earlier gesture, and her jaw stiffened.  Her hands tightened into two fists, ready to strike at him any moment, if he dared finger her lips again.  But he merely toyed eye-lock with her.  “Man...!  You are.  One.  

_Fucking_.  Beautiful.  Lady!” He breathed deeply and slightly chuckled.  “You know,” He said, gesturing openly to their captive audience, like a game-master. “There is absolutely nothing at all stopping me from kissing you… right now.”

 

He now eye-fucked her, grinning seductively, as his tongue graced his teeth. “And quite honestly… it’s awful damned fucking tempting, lady.”  He paced a step. “Hell, it would certainly give your man a fucking good show.” His hand coming to rest on her shoulder as his voice calmed. “But I will be nice.”  Carol looked up at him, surprised to see such sincerity in his eyes. “And trust this, lady….  I.   Am.   _Never_.   _Nice_.”

He placed his other hand on her shoulder, creating intense eye contact. “Indeed…  _you will_ , make me a new wife.”  Carol hesitated a moment, then responded with forced calm. “I believe you have me confused with someone else.” He eyeballed her response mockingly, as she continued. “I’m no one’s property, particularly not yours. You don’t own me now, and as fate is my witness, you never will.”

Negan mere grinned at her and chuckled again, wholly impressed with her boldness. “Ah… but you see now”, he gestured. “That, is just where 

you are sadly.   mistaken.” Locking eyes with her as he gestured with his finger. “See... You’re a natural leader.  You’re Fierce, and I  _always_ claim the fierce ones.  Make no mistake on that, lady.” He continued, his expression straightening as his hands once again locked into hers. “ _You’re_ my new wife.   Get it?  The subject is closed.” 

 

He eye-fucked her again, hoping that that last drove his impact deep into her conscience.  But he did not know Carol Pelletier, nor what she was capable of when backed into a corner.  She eyeballed him challengingly. “Sorry to disappoint you… but I’m taken.” Hoping that defense inflection was spine enough to sink into his conniving brain, that he couldn’t simply manipulate her so easily.

Now Negan was genuinely losing patience with Carol, and he steadied himself from just grabbing her hand and walking out of there without hesitation.  The game-play was over.  He stepped back from her and outwardly addressed, in a bold, unfriendly, almost threatening tone, as if speaking to the entire assembly.  “Lady… I’m going to tell  _you_ , how it all works here.”  He turned slightly and paced a step. “See… you’re in my territory.  I’m the boss here.  _I_  fucking make the rules.  It’s as plain, fucking simple as that.”  He paced a step. “These are my fucking people.” Gesturing at his men. “...they follow me.  Do my fucking bidding.”

He paced another step. “The women who enter here, become  _mine_ … as I fucking see fit.” He continued, looking for any reaction from her, but she remained unresponsive.  He continued. “You… “, gesturing at her almost fiercely, as though chastising her. “Are one of the lucky ones.” He now stopped and slightly faced her. “Not often do I get a woman as bold and _beautiful_ … and  _smart_  as you.” He rubbed his stubble and gestured again. “The other wives… they’ll look up to you.”  He now stepped in front of her. “Hell… you might even get to lead beside me... providing you stay smart and cooperative.”

He took her hands in his again. “You are.  Coming.  With.  Me.”  Carol realized that last was a direct order, not a mere threat, and she sustained herself from spitting in his face.  “You’re going to be with me tonight.” He continued with promise, as his eyes locked unapologetically with hers. “And probably, from this day forward.”  His hand now gestured toward the greater dimness of the open cavern. “Oh… don’t worry.  I’ll let you bid goodbye to your man.” Slightly glancing outward, with obvious gesture. “I’m sure he’ll miss you as all hell and whatnot. But he’ll understand.”

He now turned and nodded about his agreeing henchman, as though they were unfamiliar with his comeuppances.  Carol now forced herself to breath steady, as she fought the desperate urge to high-kick his ass, then stomp it to the ground, and then stab it repeatedly with Morgan’s gaddafi stick, until the lunatic screamed for mercy.  Or better... slash him to pieces with Michonne's katana.  But all of that was wishful thinking.  No such weapons were in sight, and that one guard had hold of the wired bat---which easily Negan could initiate if he so elected.

He took hold of her hand again, and started to lead her away.

                                                      *  -  *

Now from the stilled darkness, a gruff, angry voice wearily barked.

“She’s claimed!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again, for the read and review(s), and any feedback. Always, always appreciated, and inspiring. Kudos equally, quite appreciated. As I know from personal impact and experience via my own author favorites... that sometimes there isn't much to say over a particular chapter, but however the 'like' sends a clear message that the read was indeed enjoyable no less. :)


	3. It Was a Matter of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan has spoken his peace and is about to lead Carol away to his private chambers, when Daryl unexpectedly steps in. The hunter isn't taking this seize well, in fact he'll use what physical defense he has right now, for sake of keeping Carol's away from the madman's clutches. Its' now a serious face-off between the beloved fierce hunter, and the reputed madman who is known for taking no prisoners, and taking any woman to be his 'wife'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the third installment continuation of Carol meeting the master villain himself, AKA Negan. Once again this writing has been cumbersome as newer details and reports trickle in periodically about this bat-monster. And the recently released Season 7 premiere trailer shed even darker hideous light on who this psycho is, and what Rick and the others are soon about to face. But for now... Negan is very much a brilliantly sharp, sinister madman game-player, who shines on charm and manipulation. A total hardball who doesn't hide behind his henchmen in order to execute his dirty work. 
> 
> With Carol here, he's now aware of her 'relationship connection' with Daryl, and that pisses him to the end, in the mere fact that, unlike other backwoods rucks he's dealt with, Daryl actually has a brain, and is a fierce fighter. Negan loves that about the hunter, because it means he'll truly have a real battle of wits to challenge. But it also stabs him because of the unbreakable bond he realizes that Carol has with Daryl. The madman can claim her for the night, or even a whole week, if so desired. But she one of those rare wives who will never surrender.

CHAPTER 3 

“What the fuck?” Negan jerked his head around at the interruption.  Carol sucked in her breath, at the sound of the hunter’s familiar voice.  Secretly was overjoyed that he was here, but also terrified for him, despite his superior fighting skills. This lunatic could pull his bat at any moment, and the very last thing she wanted was a mutilated Daryl.

“WHO SAID THAT!” Negan barked angrily, stopping abruptly, as he dropped her hand to glance madly about the faces of his prisoners in the dimness.  Silence.  The air now went nauseously still, as the prisoners hushed to a bare stir, like a group of scared field mice---the Alexandrians huddling together, unable to speak.  Most of them almost shitting their pants, or ready to.

Rick and the others merely stood at cautious alert, all too familiar with this scenario. They realized how things might go down when the hunter was riled up, and even Aaron sparked at alert, despite Daryl being the muscle of the group.  His friend was in no condition to challenge a face-off with Negan, and he was definitely nothing against that bat.  Carol too, found herself anxiously scanning the dimmed faces for any sign of her hunter.  This was not a bargaining hour.

Negan was not the Governor nor Gareth, nor even the hunter’s asshole brother Merle.  He was the real deal, and she’d been informed that one of their group had been shot, when the Saviors captured her and Morgan earlier.  

Negan now strolled about slightly and scanned his prisoners, growing uneasy and irritated by the minute, while keeping close range with Carol. Whatever fool dared interfere with this show had better realize what the fuck he was doing.  Nobody in their outright mind, fucked with him when ‘Lucille’ was present.

“I SAID… “WHO SAID THAT!!” He barked again, his anger building now.  Silence.  Then a moment later, a shuffle of movement off to the left caught his watchful eye and he furrowed, frowning as his gut gnawed over the sudden familiarity of that gruff voice. He had a sneaking suspicion who it belonged to, but awaited actual identity, with feeding patience.

Daryl now revealed himself at the front of the prisoner hold, just outside the view of the flooding lights, and Carol nearly gasped at the sight of his facial injuries.  He'd taken quite a beating earlier from one of the henchmen, and perhaps even Negan himself.  And the extent of it was far greater than the scars he'd had back at Terminus.

The hunter was bruised and bleeding from above one eye, his cheek, and his forehead.  The weathered, torn cloak, he had around his shoulders barely masked the bleeding from his gunshot wound.  It was way obvious he was being careful not to bump his injured shoulder too much, as he held himself stubbornly, all in angst of seeing Carol again.  

He didn’t smile directly at the sight of her, but less concealed deep emotion, with the tears he was holding back, for not being able to come to her side right now and hold her hand.  Negan took this in and almost felt sorry for the wounded hunter, but was still pissed and pondering over Daryl’s bold interruption, considering the hunter’s obvious condition.

Negan now turned away, one hand on his hip, and shook his head, then ran a hand through his hair again, and rolled his eyes at Daryl clearing the flood lights to better view.  He should have fucking known it was Longhair.  Shit, the very last thing he wanted to deal with.  Clearly it wasn’t enough for the hunter that he was physically in no condition for battle right now.  That shoulder wound had been bleeding for over 24hrs now.

But Daryl was still Daryl Dixon, the man of few words and emotion.  And he merely stood there, awaiting a next move or word, something Negan honestly did not bare the patience nor the stilled energy for right now.

He turned at Daryl, and then for half a moment almost considered just shoving Carol at him, in sheer mad frustration “ _Just fucking_ _take her and get out!”_  But this scenario was not going to go down, quite like that.   He’d spent far too much time and energy, acquainting with the woman.  No fucking way in fucking hell, was he going to allow the hunter upset this mission.  Not while he was still breathing.

“Good christ…” He eyed the hunter with irritation. “I fucking beg your pardon?” Adding sarcastically. “ _Daryl_ ”.  The hunter ignored the sarcastic snap.  “You heard me clear.” He replied dryly.  Negan eyeballed the hunter incredulously. “What’s that?” Both hands now on his hips. “I heard _you_ clear?  What the fuck?” He angled his head in mock confusion. “You’re kidding me, right?  Seriously, Daryl.  You really wanna do this?” He patiently reasoned with the hunter. “Right now?”

Daryl didn’t respond immediately, but only glanced between the madman and Carol, who nervously only averted her eyes at her hunter, cautiously.  Negan wasn’t impressed with his bravery here, and was tempted to move to the hunter and forcibly shove him back behind the prisoner hold.  Daryl said nothing, but maintained his calculated glance across at Carol with the longing of getting her the hell away from this place.  He knew the stories from Jesus and Aaron, the many women the man had imprisoned as wives.  No fucking way was he allowing that to happen to Carol. 

Daryl forced himself to breathe steadily, as Carol now returned his glance with merely a slight nod, only the corners of her mouth politely forming a slight upturn, in acknowledge of his presence.  She knew too well he was on his hunches now, but obviously in no condition to defend himself full-speed.  Reluctantly, Daryl got her message. She wasn’t going to openly acknowledge their relationship here, nor was she going to address him directly. No sense in feeding the captor what he wanted, for purpose in making them both suffer.

The hunter shifted his glance now to Negan, and his eyes narrowed challengingly. his mouth tensing with anger.  Fuck his stupid shoulder injury, he’d endured far worse in his lifetime.  No way he was allowing a bleeding shoulder stop him from his mission.  Negan continued.  “Are you fucking for real?” He eyeballed the hunter with irritation.  Daryl locked eyes with him, and Carol fought herself from speaking up in protest. 

“I said… she’s CLAIMED!” Daryl growled briskly at the man, while ignoring his injured shoulder as he cautiously moved about.  Carol now felt a tear start to form, but quickly willed it away, wanting anything at this point just to go to the hunter and tell him to stay out of this.  She could handle herself, but knew all too well, Daryl’s stubbornness. Though usually he listened to her, he didn’t always comply nor agree with terms.

The henchman holding the bat, suddenly stepped forward and bared ‘Lucille’ to Negan, as Daryl shot them both a look, watching for any abrupt movement between them.  Carol sucked in her breath fearfully, while the prisoners stirred noticeably in the dimness, expelling hushed ‘oh no’s’ from their worried faces.  A stifled wide grin, now formed on Negan, and he raised his hand, dismissing the bat, then tossed an amused glance at Daryl.

He honestly had to give the hunter credit for having a pair, and he was now uber curious with investigating this boldness even further. Daryl glared back at Negan, holding himself steady, but more than ready to lounge at the madman’s next maneuver.  “I said, she's mine…” He managed to repeat again, with enough gut to reassure everyone that he was still Daryl.  Negan just stared at the hunter, and shook his head in mock adoration, then glanced at Carol and smiled.

“Is that so?” He shot at her, completely toying the answer he already knew. “You ...belong to  _this_  guy?” He mocked, while slowly edging a tad closer toward Daryl.  “You are with this sore-heap, sad redneck trailer trash” Gesturing his hand at Daryl. “This fucked up excuse for a man.” He threw a mocking glance at Daryl, broke into a mad chuckle, and then glanced back at Carol, still grinning.

“That’s none of your business.” Carol replied flatly.  Negan rubbed his scruff. “So....you don’t admit to it… nor do you deny it.” He said dauntingly, moving back to Carol.  Suddenly without warning, he now grabbed her left hand and held it high enough for the entire arena to see, then spoke loudly as though making an announcement. “Well ... you’re not married to him…look… there’s no ring!”

Carol yanked her hand back irritably and glared at the man. “Again.... it’s none of your business.”  Negan now taunted. “Yea?” Moving at her seductively and daringly. “You think so.”  Now standing over her, dauntingly.  “Well… what…. if I fucking  _make it_ … my business?” His tone darkly flirtatious.  Carol swallowed hard, but steadied herself well.  Daryl’s anger grew.

“See, now … I can take you places, lady” Now taking her hand into his, entwining their fingers “... that you’ve… never been.” He continued, while eye-fucking her shamelessly. “Not even.  with.   _him_.” Eye-gesturing toward Daryl, who seethed under his breath, and silently cursed.  There was momentary pause as Carol locked eyes with the madman, who merely awaited her response, with honest anticipation of reinforcement.  He realized he wasn’t winning with her, but he wasn’t backing down either.

“I seriously doubt that.” Carol now responded flatly, hoping her tone had impacted Negan with clear message that he wasn’t going to win her. “I’m not your type.” Eyeing him with bold challenge, against the knowledge of his claimed wives.

Negan chuckled and rubbed his scruff.  This was far from over yet.  “Is that right.” He responded, then paused a moment to tilt his head at her in sheer amusement. This woman was getting better and trickier on the clock “You think you know my type.” He eyeballed her straight. “That I even  _have_  any kind of fucking type.” He stared at Carol, half irritated half amused, then turned out slightly and gestured openly to his guards. “Did you all hear that, guys? She thinks she knows my type!”

The armed henchmen barely responded with muted gibberish, as the prisoners stirred a bit. “Tell me boys…” He continued compulsively, grinning like a crime boss.  “Do I have a  _type_?  I SAID…” Tossing Carol a mocking glance. “Do I have A FUCKING TYPE?” As though his assembly was deaf.  Again, the henchmen barely stirred in response.  Now Negan straightened and turned at Carol again.  “Lady… you don’t know any _fucking_ thing about me” His voice now raising. “So please… PLEASE enlighten me.” He eyeballed her almost warningly. “Otherwise.  Do.  Not.   Stand.   Here _._ and tell me…  that.    I.   have.   a.   fucking.   type!”

He continued his taunting rant at her. “Okay now ... “ Scuffing at his chin. “We are going to play a little game here.” Glancing at Carol derisively. “For sakes sake.” He slightly paced about her, then stopped in front of her. “Enlighten me.” He eyeballed her. “I want to know just what in the fucking hell exactly… you consider--- _my type_?” In a challenging but toying tone. “Because this is beyond fucking curious to me, really.” He now grew irritated, but continued his game-play. “As I stated… I claim  _anyone_ who enters my premises…. In fact, … I  _know_  I made that perfectly clear.”

He eyeballed Carol, awaiting any response, but she smartly remained silent. She had no interest nor patience for his taunting argument debate over bullshit dating politics.   He continued. “Honestly…. you CAN’T… “, he now nearly spat at her spitefully. “Because you  _DON'T_ have the answer!” He glared at her cautioning, then shot a glare across at Daryl a moment, and then back at her, and now felt himself filled with disgust and jealousy.

He suddenly realized this entire situation, that he’d assumed the upper hand, was actually mocking him, and he was now pissed.  He’d clearly underestimated Carol here, and Longhair challenging the competition, had nailed him like a knee to his groin, very unexpectedly. For half a moment, he considered grabbing ‘Lucille’ against the hunter, but realized such tactic could backfire in a heartbeat, as Daryl was not sidelined by such scare-tactics. Things were now developing into two wolves challenging over a lone female, and he needed to be a fucking man about this instead of a sore-loser mentality that would quickly threaten his leadership.

It was now time for him to employ a different game tactic, and he returned his attention to Daryl.  “Tell me something… _Daryl_."With rude emphasis of the hunter’s name. “When was the last time… you physically touched this woman?  As in, FUCKED her?”  Daryl’s anger grew, and he seethed under his breath.  Carol now felt the mounting tension around her imprisoned family, particularly Rick, who no doubt wished he could bite the monster’s throat out right now. Over in a corner, Maggie sniffled with raw emotion while Glenn did his best to comfort her. 

Negan snapped at Daryl. “Come on, man…  _Fuck_  your stupid shoulder injury and man-up! I haven’t got all damned night.”  Daryl eyed Carol,  _I don’t wanna do this, but this prick’s leaving me no fuckin’ choice!_ Carol returned his look,  _I’m so sorry, Daryl. If I could, I’d serve him his balls on a platter._

The madman noticed their nonverbal exchange, with grave irritation, and barked at the hunter. “HEY!” He pointed a fierce finger at him.  “I’m talking to you!”  Daryl shot Negan a glare and then growled at him with seething breath. “The lady told you… it’s none of your damned business!”  Negan chuckled again and shook his head.  “…. Jesus Lord... Daryl, for  _real_!" He toyed openly, now wearily pacing himself. "Y'know...." He now chuckled. "I’d have taken you for  _much_  better than this.” He grinned callously. “So I’m going to rightfully say...” His tongue toying over his teeth. “That your answer is …  _NEVER_.” He challengingly spat at the hunter, locking eyes with him.  “In FACT" He boldly continued. "…I’m going to say…” He grinning wickedly. “That you’re a tried ‘n true  _VIRGIN_.”  Daryl gritted his teeth, and restrained himself from lounging at the asshole right now.

Negan continued his taunt with Daryl.  “You  _had_  your opportunity with her once…” He glanced at Carol, then returned his attention to the hunter. “But you plain fucked up.”  Daryl’s anger grew.  “Hell”, the madman continued. “You probably fucked up your chances with her…  _several_  times.”  Carol now felt her insides start to churn.  “And I wonder even MORE" Negan slightly paced, continuing his taunt.  "… of when was even the last time…  _you_  got _yourself_  off.” He spat spitefully, as Daryl clenched his fists.  “Cause, sure as all hell... you haven’t been the man enough  _do her_.” He spat again challengingly. Carol now forced back everything she had within herself, from punching the man.  Negan continued at Daryl.  “And  _clearly_ , you can see what she’s made of.”  He paused deliberately, as he moved behind Carol. “She’s tough.... bold, brassy.”  Now placing both hands on her shoulders, making her jump.

“Such a beautiful woman…” Negan now purred into her ear seductively, while rubbing her shoulders rather intimately. Carol grimaced and glanced up at Daryl with gritted teeth.  The hunter clenched his fists tighter.  Negan glanced at him. “Here it is… quite clear…. _what_ _man_ has hold of her.” He eyeballing the angry hunter challengingly. “And who will KEEP hold of her, because  _you_  haven’t been man enough to ...  your entire fucking existence!”

Daryl burned with rage and Carol almost found herself losing it.  This public humiliation was beyond ludicrous, in spite them both being tough as nails.  Tied up with no weapons at disposal, they were all at Negan’s mercy.  In the prison hold, Rick seethed while Michonne steamed behind him, churning that she didn’t have her katana at disposal, and Maggie wept quietly into Glenn’s arms while he fought back his own raw building emotion. Abraham almost punched the dirt wall, desperately wanting his loaded air-gun to blow the monster to bits, and Carl seethed that he didn’t have his gun handy to just shoot the bastard point blank.

Negan now whispered loud enough in Carol’s ear for Daryl to hear. “I told you I was going to show you a real man.” He nudged her. “Now I'm done here.  We’re going off to my place.” He took her hand to lead her off.  Daryl stepped in hotly.  “Let her be!” He growled angrily, moving a step closer.  Rick and Michonne now jumped at alert while several pairs of eyes opened wide in angst and horror. The nearby henchmen startled at alert, and a few cocked their weapons in response.

The hunter really _was_ going to challenge the madman in spite his injury. Both Michonne and Maggie looked genuinely fearful now, and even Sasha seated against a dirt wall nearby, jumped at the startle.  Negan shot the hunter a warning look and pointed at him fiercely. “Don’t test me, dude!”, then turned and proceeded to walk off with Carol. "I've been fair and game with you, till now!"

“Let her be!” Daryl barked hotly, the fist of his good hand tightening. “She’s mine.  You can’t have her!” He spat almost wearily.  A few guards now stepped inward and aimed their weapons at him, as the prisoners reacted with hushes and gasps.  Negan was beyond irritated with the hunter and swore under his breath.  “Good Christ...!”, he uttered, turning back around.  He released Carol’s hand then madly wiped his hands through his hair, and shook his head at Daryl in disbelief. “Evidently you just don’t fucking get it yet.” He eyeballed the hunter. “I’ve about lost my patience with you.  But hell, I get it. " He rubbed his eyes a moment, then looked at Daryl. "You hicks only have shit for brains.”

Daryl cursed hotly under his breath, as Negan continued.  “Hell, I almost commended you earlier, for even having a fucking pair… in spite never using them!”  The madman continued. “Well, try to process  _this,_ asshole.” Moving closer to the hunter, with a warning look. “You’re in  _my_  domain,  _so I’d wrap it up if I were you._ ” He stopped only feet from the hunter. “Learn that well, asshole." He eyeballed Daryl threateningly. “You keep this shit up---and you _will_ meet ‘Lucille’.  Make _no_ mistake on that!  And we both know.... that is not what you want!” He continued. “I  _will_  take a lady, if I  _want_  to take a lady. It's that fucking simple.”

Carol barely breathed and felt her insides churn, half wanting to just be unconscious from this daring face-off, as her mind scattered furiously over what to say or do, for intervention. Daryl didn’t back down from Negan, in spite the ‘Lucille’ threat. “She belongs to me… you ain’t gonna have her.” He said wearied, then bravely added. “I’ll take you barehanded!”  Most of the prisoners now gasped in full horror over what hunter just challenged.  Did they just hear him right?  Negan only glared at Daryl dumbfoundedly for half a moment.  The hunter prick was actually challenging him to a real face-off. 

“Did you just threaten to take me barehanded?" He responded to Daryl. "With _what_?” He glared at the hunter incredulously. “An injured shoulder?” He now chuckled while shaking his head in disbelief. “Hell dude, if I knocked you in the head right now, you’d fucking fall backward on your ass!”  That was it for Daryl.  He now lounged at Negan, and the prisoners gasped in horror shock.  But before a fist could reach the madman’s face, Carol quickly intercepted the swing and blocked his way. “Daryl---Stop! Just please stop this.” She pleaded at him desperately, maintaining her stance between the two men. “I’ve got this.”

Daryl looked at her with utter shock and disbelief a moment, as Carol spoke firmly.  “He’s bullshitting with you.  He isn’t really going to take me away.  Nothing is going to happen to me.” She locked eyes with her hunter, hoping her words and gesture sank into his brain.  Daryl met her with saddened, but frustrated eyes, as he fought back raw emotion.  He’d lost her so many times already, but this time was almost too much to bear.  He couldn’t deal with this psycho taking her to his bedchambers, and do god-knows-what.

Negan now looked as though he'd been hit in the face with a metal pan. Did Carol really say what he thought she just said?  Well clearly she needed a serious wake-up call.  “What---“ He now walked around her, then got into her face. “You thought I was bullshitting?” He eyeballed her incredulously, as he then shot a warning look at Daryl, and then returned his glare at her.  Suddenly his eyes were filled with something very dark and brewing that she didn’t like.  A sort of hunger or terror flash that was about to explode without warning, and she genuinely frightened her.

“Well.” Negan leaned in and eyeballed her so intensely, she thought they might pop out of their sockets and punch her in the face. "How’s this?” The next moment became a blur of passion and anger, like something out of a hideous romance novel, which left Carol in a complete tailspin. Negan grabbed her head and madly crushed his whiskered lips against hers, as his free hand swept across her face and then down her side, and wrapped tightly around her frame. His giant tongue probed its way into her mouth—almost swallowing her, and she gasped and cried out as her arms flailed helplessly against him.

Daryl snapped. “You cock-faced sonofabitch!” He now lounged angrily at the madman, and madly shoved him off Carol, followed by as hard a fist as he could muster from his good hand, to the bastard's face. Negan scaled back at bit and released his hold on Carol, then then touched the area on his face where the hunter had just punched him.  He then looked at Daryl in complete disbelief as the hunter glared maddeningly back at him, his arm still upraised in strike position.

Carol took a moment to regain her bearings and process what had just happened.  “You do that again, jerk” Negan spat at Daryl, as his eyes blinked madly. “And I  _will_  unleash ‘Lucille’”.  Daryl retained his stance and breathed fiercely at the madman. “Oh yea--?  Try taking me on _without_ that stupid bat!” He shot hotly, while throwing a quick glance at Carol to make sure she was okay.  Negan now shot Daryl a surprised glance and then paused a moment, sincerely impressed. He honestly couldn’t recall a last time any injured prisoner behaved this boldly at him. More surprisingly, he wasn’t really pissed anymore, at either of them.  He simply shook his head and choked out a grin as Daryl waited irritably on his haunches for the man to lay another finger on Carol.  She’d now regained herself and attempted to process that Daryl had just sacrificed his safety, in striking the madman. She couldn’t tell if she was impressed with him or pissed off now, that he’d interfered, after she’d reasoned with him.  

“Gotta hand it to you, Longhair.” Negan now wearily managed. “Some pretty good sized balls you have.” He rubbed his cheek and then his scruff. “I’m impressed. You’re a tried and true god dammed fighter.  I like that in my people.”

“I ain’t your people.” Daryl growled back. “Well, we’ll discuss that later, when your shoulder heals.” Negan said casually back to him. “In the meantime, something clear needs to be settled once and for all.” He took a few steps while regaining himself. “This woman is coming with me, and  _you’re_  going to stay here, and that’s how I am running things, like it or not.” He took a breath and then calmed himself, as he locked his hand onto Carol’s again. “Oh, don’t worry… I’ll take excellent care of her.”  He said, squeezing her hand. “Make no mistake on that. She’s a real jewel… And I don’t fuck around with jewels.”

Carol piped at the hunter pleadingly. “Daryl… please stay back now, and let me handle my own. You need to trust me.  I won’t be gone forever…. I promise you that.”  The madman now pulled her by the hand.  “You’re done talking.” He retorted to Carol, as they moved.  He suddenly turned again to Daryl. “I will tell you this… no harm will come to her as long as do your part and cooperate. I can’t keep my end, unless you do.” And then he disappeared down the corridor with Carol’s hand gripped in his.

Daryl watched after Carol helplessly, as Negan led her down the walkway, off to some unknown destination.  But realized that she was right.  He did need to trust her, in spite where she was inevitably going. She was a one-woman army who could take care of herself, in spite the fact that bastard would soon be touching her.  But the hunter fiercely brushed aside such horrid thoughts, and instead forced his love and devotion to her, into the empty cavity of his soul, that she once occupied, not long ago. And tried very hard not to hurt deeply again, for losing her.  

He shut himself down for a moment, and forced himself to think of how they had become each other’s person.  How they’d started from friends, then became best friends, and then evolved to more than best friends who’d fallen in love.  At least he had, with her, anyway.  He’d come close twice, in asking her how she felt, and where they stood with each other by now.  But they always somehow got interrupted by something.  He took that as fate telling him that the right time was yet to come. 

Now reflecting on what Abe had asked him barely a week ago---about ever ‘settling down’.  His real answer was an all-out ‘Yes’.  He was in-love with Carol, and wanted her as his partner, his lover.  He knew deep down they’d become soulmates.   Somehow, someway, fate was going to reunite them again.  Now an armed guard grabbed him by his good arm, and led him back behind the prisoner hold, and he stared ahead at the empty dimmed cavity, that a moment ago had been occupied with his beloved warrior queen, getting led away by that Savior scumbag.


End file.
